my journey through the loss of my first son and the life of my second

Monday, January 31, 2011


On January 5th 2010 I gave birth to the most beautiful boy I had ever seen... I was 21 weeks and 3 days pregnant. He arrived at 8:10 am.

Today, I am 21w3d pregnant with my little rainbow, ian. At 8:11am I was officially more pregnant than I have ever been!!!!!!

Praise God!!!!

What an amazing feeling to get over that mark! Ian is still nice and high in my belly and moving like crazy for most of the day and night! We did it! We made it to my first big milestone!!! I feel relieved...even if just a little bit. My cervix is holding...for now! I don't know that the rest of the pregnancy will be as complication free as these first 21 weeks have been, but it has been nice to be high risk and not high maintenance!

Our next big goal - VIABILITY!!! A baby is viable outside the womb at 24 weeks. This was the mark we were shooting for while in the hospital with Trent. But, the infection took over my body and I had to deliever him to save my life. Feburary 18, 2011 I will be 24 weeks pregnant! The doctors at Winnie Palmer told me that at 24 weeks the baby has a 30% chance of living outside the womb and there are many complications that can come with being born that early. I haven't researched it any further than that. I really REALLY don't want Ian to be born at 24 weeks. I just want to know that I have made it to a point in pregnancy where he has a shot outside the womb! 24 weeks is so close I can taste it!!! My little miracle baby is measuring a full week ahead on ultrasound so really he is the size of a 22w3d baby...makes my heart happy! The bigger he is the better his chances are of survival outside my womb.

At my last appointment with the high risk doctor he said if things keep going the way they are I could give birth to a 38 or 39 week baby...can you even imagine???? My baby born and not even have to stay in the NICU??? I have been preparing myself for a few weeks in the NICU...just so I don't freak out if it does happen. But, I don't want to get ahead of myself too much...

February 18th here we come!!!!!!

Saturday, January 29, 2011


I thank God every. single. day. for both of my boys.

I really can't believe that I am pregnant again. I went to a baby shower today for another little was so fun and exciting to watch all that baby stuff be opened and passed around. But, a year ago I didn't think I would ever attend a baby shower again. I remember just a few weeks after Trent died I was invited to a shower of a girl that was due the same week as me. It was like a punch in the gut. I was beyond upset....not because they invited me but, because I would never get that for my little boy. But, today was fine. I was fine. There were no tears, no upset feelings, just lots of laughs and lots of blue! Being pregnant again does not heal my will never be whole again. But, being pregnant again does make me feel more human. It does give me something to look forward too. It does give me hope.

I am amazed every day that I am pregnant...still, again, ever. It is truly something I thought I would never get to experinece. Trent gave me all my firsts; ultrasound, morning sickness, life inside me. Ian is giving me just as much and more. I feel Ian kick and squirm every day...what a blessing! I am just a few short days (2!!) away from being more pregnant than I have ever been. I feel blessed beyond words. Some might think I am crazy for feeling blessed with one child in heaven...but, blessed I am.

Two little boys... :)

Thursday, January 27, 2011


My only experience of giving birth came with ultimate silence. I remember when I was first moved to labor and delievery I could hear the mothers in the rooms around me screaming in pain. I can remember hearing the babies cry. I can remember hearing families laughing and celebrating. But, my birthing suite was much much different. I was in the same kind of labor as the woman around me. I was having the same contractions they were having. But, the difference is my son was not going to live. I didn't scream with each contraction. I held tightly to the bed and was silent. I didn't yell for pain meds. The doctors had to force me to take them to save my life. I didn't have a monitor on me to continually hear Trent's heart beat. It was silent. When Trent was born he made no noise. He moved and squirmed...but, he was silent.

I asked Ken last night if he wanted to attend the birthing classes at the hospital. He said it was up to me. I don't. Is that awful? I can't imagine being in a room full of women and their husbands giddy over the impending birth of their child. I can't imagine being there and not being triggered by all I have already seen. For me, L&D is a place of death, not of life. I know that most don't have this thought. I know that most people are just as ignorant as I once was. But, I can't bring myself to attend these classes. I have given birth. I have gone through labor. I know what happens.

But, this time I want to hear his cry. This time I want to hold him and kiss him and feel his warmth for longer than 22 minutes. I want Ken to be there to cut the cord. I want to watch as they hand him to his daddy. I want to cry as they hand him to me...not because my time with him will be so very short...but because he is my miracle.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011


First BIG milestone in this race to bring Ian home is here!

YAY - 20 weeks and 5 days with no complication. I realize it is only 10:19am but, I was admitted to the hospital by, YAY! Praise God for this little miracle and for the miracle of modern medicine that can perform a surgery to keep this little guy inside me!!

I fell much much better today...I had a good cry last night...talked to my mommy...Ken just held me as I bawled...and today I am in good spirits.

I think I will go shopping and buy Ian some fun stuff to celebrate passing this first mark!

Tuesday, January 25, 2011


I wish I could tell you that my tears have stopped, that my pain is gone, that my heart is okay again.

But, none of that is true.

I still cry for my sweet Trent. I still hurt so very much. And, my heart is still broken.

Tomorrow I will be 20 weeks and 5 days pregnant. The same gestation Trent was when i was admitted to the hospital. I was taken from Orlando International Airport via ambulance to WInnie Palmer Hospital...and had six more days with him...and then it was all over. I feel very confident that Ian is just fine in my that the doctors have stitched it closed. But, I have been playing the what-if game the last few nights. In the days that lead up to my hospitalization I had so much discharge. I thought it was normal pregnancy stuff...but, now I know it was probably my cervix effacing. What if I knew then what I know now? What if when the extreme amounts of discharge started I went to the hospital? What if they could have caught my cervix in time to place the cerclage? I know none of the what-ifs change the outcome. I can't go back and do it over again. But, as I am pregnant again and am having NONE of those symptoms I want to kick myself for not knowing something was wrong.

Ian sits right at my belly button. I rented a doppler so I could hear his heart beat at home. I can find it just to the right of my belly button. Trent never got that high. When we were admitted to the hospital he was in the middle of my pubic bone and belly button...looking back I am sure that is because my cervix wasn't holding him up like it should have.

The pain and heartache is different now. I was so in denial for the first few weeks and months I was just sure I must be dreaming. But, now I know it is over. I used to dream of all that should have it is different. I can't explain really why or's just that I accept that he is never coming back. I would give anything in the world to have Trent in my arms and still have Ian kicking away. I would love to know what it would be to have two little boys in one house...but, those are things that I will never know...that is why the tears still come.

I feel like I am rambling...but, my heart hurts tonight...with no relief in sight.

I find myself doing crazy stuff lately. I have this disconnect. I am shopping for baby stuff for Ian. I am talking like he will be here in a few months. But, I am also preparing myself for what I will do if he dies. I don't think I could live through it again. I laid in bed last night and thought of ways I could die too...I am not suicidial...just trying to tell myself that I could go to heaven too...that I wouldn't have to stay and go through the pain again. I don't want to die. I want to live a life with my husband and son. But, I am not sure I can make it if something goes wrong. I am not sure I can hold it together. I am a planner by nature and feel like I need a plan in place incase he doesn't come home. Oh, the thought of leaving the hospital again with empty arms...

I need to stop...I get myself all worked up. He is fine. My pregnancy is fine. I am doing everything medically possible to bring this little boy home.

I need prayers of comfort heart aches and my soul is weary.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

from Trent to Ian

(the minute I typed that title I thought of the movie, "From Justin to Kelly" you know the awful one made after season one of American Idol??? Don't worry I am not writing about Justin....or Kelly) :)

I could have titled this one "pregnancy after loss" but, really it is so much more than that....this is not just a is the creation of Ian's life. And, the "loss" was so much more than just a four letter was Trent's beautiful little life.

I was chatting with a friend last night who lost beautiful twin girls just a few months after I lost Trent. I only know her because we both carry the same heartache from day to day. We are both pregnant again and were talking about what sent us to the hospital before. I have had the hardest time remembering exactly what day in my pregnancy it was when I was admitted to the hospital and then exactly what day in my pregnancy Trent was born. She said to me, "the details are a little fuzzy but the mental images are forever there." Oh, I know that. I can't remember what kinds of drugs they gave me to stop labor. I can't remember the exact number of times they had to move my IV because my veins would not cooperate. I can't remember the names of any of the nurses...even though some would sit and cry with me. I can't remember the names of the doctors...although I remember the one that told me I was very sick and possibly dying myself had a large hair mole on his arm. I can't remember what the room numbers were. I may not know exactly (although I did a little reasearch and I was admitted at 20w5d and he was born at 21w3d) what day it was but the images from those days will never every go away. I will never forget the fear in Ken's face while they did that last ultrasound. I will never forget the lights I stared at as they wheeled me all over the hosptial for tests. I will never forget the gray, cold look of the Orlando skyline when we were finally admitted our room on the ICU/high risk floor. I will never forget the nurse who came in with a bag full of "stuff" that first day. I asked what it was and she said it was for the delivery. (I was able to hold on long enough to deliever in L&D so Trent got a proper entrance into the world). I will never forget the tears my mom cried when the admitting nurse asked if I wanted to bottle feed or breast feed. I will never forget the NICU nurse shaking her head just seconds after he was born, confirming there was nothing they could do to save him. I will never forget his perfect little nose, hands, feet, arms. I will never forget the way he felt in my arms, the way his skin felt against mine, the say he held on to my finger. I will never forget Ken's face when he came into the delivery room to meet his dead son. I will never forget the faces of family that came to meet him through the day. I will never forget the moment we said goodbye and Ken feel to the floor in pure, uninhibited grief. I will never forget him climbing into my hospital bed that night and holding me as we were the only two left in the world. I will never forget the tiny closet they kept his body in as his grandfather was flying in to see him and they didn't want to send him to the morgue yet. I will never forget the time I spent there with him; holding him, rocking him, singing to him, telling him of all I would never get to tell him in his short life. Those things never, ever leave.

So, as I progress in this second pregnancy with Ian you can understand why I am so scared. The moments of Trent's birth and death were hard and painful. Being pregnant with my "rainbow" baby (the child you carry after a loss) is not easy. It is not a pregnancy that I can enjoy on a day to day basis. I try so very hard. But, it is so hard to keep those images out of my head. It is so hard to think of a birthing suite filled with people laughing and not crying. It is hard to think of doctors telling you your son is okay and your pregnancy is doing great (which is all I have heard this pregnancy). It is even harder to imagine kissing him for more than a few hours. It is so hard to not freak out with every pain, every stretch, every thing. But, I am pregnant again...with Ian. A little boy who is loved beyond words.

I can't even explain the love that surronded Trent, Ken, and myself in the days we were hospitalized. The grief people felt for us and with us was beyond amazing. The cards, sweet words, and pain that was expressed...I can't even begin to expalin. And, oh is Ian so very lucky. He is so loved. I think people love this little boy because he brings hope to us...all of us. He reminds us that there is good in this world. He is truly a miracle. I have never felt the love that I have over the last year... Ian will arrive in this world with more love than most will see in a lifetime...and for that I am grateful. And, that is because of his sweet, innocent big brother.

So, as I live from Trent to heart is broken and full at the same time.

I have two precious boys that I can call my sons.

And, that makes me the luckiest mommy in all the world.

Friday, January 21, 2011


This was not a word that I understood until a little over a year ago. I had never really known what anxiety can do to a person. It can be debilitating. It can rule your life. It can cloud your every thought with crazy things that might and probably will never happen. But, it over took me for months after Trent died. My anxiety was so bad I didn't feel like I was functioning. I was just marking time. Ugh, the feeling in the pit of my stomach is still so vivid to me. It crippled me for months and months. I could hide it at times. But, there were days when the anxiety was so bad I couldn't even get out of bed. I could barely will myself to the bathroom. Depression was a part of my grief but the anxiety took over. I started seeing a grief therapist and that did nothing for my anxiety. I finally sought the help of drugs. After a few months of testing and trying I found a good combo of meds that didn't make me a zoombie but also controlled my nerves. I felt like I finally had control of something in my life again. The powerless feeling was very common after Trent's death.

In the past couple of days my anxiety is back with a vengence. I feel the "butterflies" in my first sign a full blown attack is coming. I hear the irrational thoughts creeping in. I feel like I am falling apart with no control of the situation. Yesterday I took a nice long nap when I got home from work...just to escape the feeling. This morning I woke up with that familiar feeling that it would be much easier to stay under the covers than face this cruel world.

I am 20 weeks pregnant today. Ian weighed in at 12oz on Tuesday's ultrasound. Trent came into the world at 22 weeks and weighed only 13oz. When Trent weighed 12oz my crappy cervix gave out. It could not hold the weight of the pregnancy at that point. I know that Ian's weight is being supported by my cervix at this point. I know that I have the treatment in place for my incompetent cervix. But, it doesn't keep the thoughts from creeping in...the fear of what has been. When I was pregnant with Trent I had no idea all that could go wrong. With Ian I have forgotten all that can go right.

I don't think my anxiety is near the point it was in the height of my grief. I also know what it is now. Before I couldn't explain the emotions I was feeling. I do have hope. I do feel joy...these are things I didn't have before. I just want to bring Ian home happy and healthy. I want him to be born at 33, 34, 38 weeks gestation.

In the past week I have had two dreams about being covered in blood...the first sign something was wrong with Trent. I inspect the TP after each visit to the bathroom. I pray every single time not to let there be blood. Just a few more weeks and I will pass the point of ultimate failure in my life.

Pray I survive

Thursday, January 20, 2011

hope cont...

I am in a support group online that has about 60 other women pregnant with another child after their loss...

This was posted in that group...

How perfect for my day of hope!

A Different Child
poem by Pandora MacMillian

People notice
There's a special glow around you.
You grow
Surrounded by love,
Never doubting you are wanted;
Only look at the pride and joy
In your mother and father's eyes.

And if sometimes
Between the smiles
There's a trace of tears,
One day
You'll understand.

You'll understand
There was once another child
A different child
Who was in their hopes and dreams.

That child will never outgrow the baby clothes
That child will never keep them up at night
In fact, that child will never be any trouble at all.
Except sometimes, in a silent moment,
When mother and father miss so much
That different child.

May hope and love wrap you warmly
And may you learn the lesson forever
How infinitely precious
How infinitely fragile
Is this life on earth.

One day, as a young man or woman
You may see another mother's tears
Another father's silent grief
Then you, and you alone
Will understand
And offer the greatest comfort.

When all hope seems lost,
You will tell them
With great compassion,
"I know how you feel.
I'm only here
Because my mother tried again."

giving up

I saw this quote online today...

when the world says 'give up,' Hope whispers, 'try it one more time' -- unknown

It made me really start to think about all the times it would have been easier to just give up. When the doctor in Florida told me that I would never carry kids of my own...I could have given up...but, look at all I would have missed. When Trent died in my arms...I could have given up...but, I would have missed out on Ian.

Life sucks a lot of times. I was devestated when the doctor told me to basically give up on having a baby of my own. But, even in the years that followed Ken and I never stopped trying. We never gave up on hope. We were not actively trying to get pregnant when we concieved Trent...he truly was our miracle. God had bigger plans for us. In the days after he died I feel like 100's of people said to me, "You can have other kids." But, I really didn't know if that was true. It had taken us 4 years to concieve that precious little boy. Four long, hard, emotional years. I was 30 when he was born. I kept thinking about how your fertility drops after the age of 30 and my fertility already sucked. But, we didn't give up hope. I opted to lose 90 lbs of weight and here I am carrying my second son. I can't believe I can even type those SECOND SON! I have two little boys. One of which will be waiting in heaven for me when this life ends and the other is kicking me and wiggling as I type. I don't know that I could imagine life without them. I hate that Trent is gone...the tears still come daily for all that I am missing with him. But, he will always be my first born miracle.

There are days when hope feels pretty far away...but, God truly never let go...

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

wonderful news

Profile of my big/little man!

All boy...which we already knew...but, they confirmed for us today!

His little footsie!!

Ian looks GREAT!!! All body parts are there and working! He measured a whole week ahead!! 20w4d!!

AND, my cervix was long and closed!!!! 4cm!!! A normal cervix measures 3.5-4.5!

Monday, January 17, 2011

19 weeks 3 days

I didn't pay this close attention to the days ticking by while I was pregnant with Trent. I guess I really didn't know there was a need to. But, now it feels like every day I get to keep Ian inside is a truly is. Tomorrow is our big 20 week anatomy scan....but, equally important is the fact that they will be checking my cervical length. The prayer is that my cervix is still long and the stitch is holding. If it has starting funneling or shortening I will be back on bedrest :(

Ken and I went to Babies R Us this weekend. I have already picked out the nursery furniture I would like to buy...they had a deal if you bought two pieces of the collection you got the crib for free. This was an amazing deal...we didn't buy. I wanted to. We talked about it...we wandered around the store thinking we should just dive it. But, we are both so nervous of something going wrong. A nursery full of furniture and a second son in heaven would be too cruel.

I am still praying to make it to our 24 week mark ... again, I don't want to give birth to a 24 week baby...but, I want him to have a chance.

I love my boys so very much...I want the chance to be a mommy to one of them on earth.

Thursday, January 13, 2011


Last night I dreamt of Ian. He was in his car seat happy as could be. He had a full head of dark hair and big chubby cheeks. (It was funny to see dark hair because I am blonde and Ken was blonde as a child) But, I woke up so very excited to meet this little boy. I had an ephipany moment last night...I can't do anything else. I have had surgery to stitch my cervix shut, I see my high risk OB weekly for 17p injections to keep my uterus relaxed, we have weekly ultrasounds to monitor for movement and heartbeat, I use the doppler daily to check his heartbeat. I eat right. I take it easy. I stay off my fee as much as I can. That is it...the rest is in God's hands.

I have felt unbelievable amounts of guilt in the year since Trent was born and died. I have felt like I should have known something was wrong. I have played the weeks leading up to his death in my head over and over searching for any clues. But, with incomptent cervix there are none. You dialate with no pain, no signs, and then your body has no chance of holding the pregnancy in. I know I could not have changed it or saved him. But, I tried the very best I could on my week of hospital bedrest.

Ian has the very best care because his big brother died first. Ian is monitored and checked because his big brother made sure he would be. I can't do any more than I am doing to help Ian. I have to put it in God's hands and wait to meet this little guy. My prayer is I meet him in May or June. But, if my body gives out and he comes early than I pray the NICU can save him. Again, none of it is in my control. I can worry myself sick...which I have been doing the past few weeks...or I can enjoy this precious pregnancy.

Please continue to pray that my cervix holds and Ian stays put for a good 10-15 weeks more.

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

what if??

What if Ian doesn't make it?

What if history repeats itself?

What something different goes wrong this time?

I played this game for months after Trent died and lately I can't seem to get it out of my head for Ian.

I am just shy of 19 weeks pregnant. I was admitted to the hospital with Trent at 21 weeks 4 days. I am so scared of approaching that same mile stone with this pregnancy. I feel like it is the week of doom. I had an OB appt today and everything looked great. I am dehydrated but other than that everything is good. But, when I was 19 weeks with Trent everything was good. I left with and appt for 4 weeks later and the next time I saw my OB I had meet and said good bye to my son. I cried the whole appt today. I asked about all the scenarios that could go wrong. I have to stop worrying so much. I just don't know how.

I would rather be having these thoughts...and maybe I will FORCE myself to have them...

What if Ian is born full term, perfectly healthy?

What if he comes home from the hosptial?

What if the cerclage holds?

Monday, January 10, 2011


I have lost everything - and in that loss - I have won.

The pain from the last year con not be measured. The pain doesn't every end. I will always miss the life that should have been. I think one of the hardest parts of death is that we have no choice in it. I had no control on what played out a year ago. I still blame my body for failing my son - but, I had NO control. In the days after Trent was born and died Ken and I had choices to make...lots and lots of choices. We had to choose how to handle his body; cremate or bury? We had to make choices about his funeral; what songs to sing, what scriptures to read, what flowers to have, what to say. Once released from the hospital we had to make the choice to stay in Florida with family or to fly back home. The choices seemed clear in the moment. They were pressing and easy.

The choices that came after where not as clear, not as easy, not as pressing. One choice I made was to share my son with the world (via blogging). It was a painful choice. Do I share his pictures? His story? His short life? And, if so what parts, how much, and how often? Do I share the emotions that are so raw and so very painful? These choices I still make. It is clear I chose to share him. I chose to write about him. I chose to let people in on the grief. I have been as open and honest as I know how to be about my pain. It has proven to make me vulnerable and open for criticism. I have gotten harsh words for my openness. But, more than anything I have found love and comfort beyond what words can describe.

My life is defined by loss. But, my hope is that when you think of me death is not the only thing that comes to mind. Death could be all I love for. It could be my only focus. But, I have made the choice to continue to live. Most days I feel that was the right decision...somedays the grief is so all consuming it would be easier to stop living and give up. In this life you get what you focus on. If I made the choice to only focus on death - death is what I would have. I try and focus on Trent's life...focus on my life without him. Life will give life. Focusing on life has given me Ian. sweet second son. I focus on what can go wrong with Ian A LOT. I think it is only natural after a loss. I have to change that. I have to focus on a life WITH him here.

Thanks for walking with me over the past year. It has been quite a journey for me. As I begin the second year without Trent I hope for more hope. I pray for more joy. And, I pray to share pictures of my second and his life with you.

Ernest Hemingway once said,

"The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places. But those that will not break it kills."

Here is Ian at 16 weeks 4 days giving us two thumbs up:

And, here he is from the outside:

I am 18 weeks 3 days:

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Happy Birthday Trent!

I miss you so very much! I wish I were laying awake tonight thinking of all the last minute details I need to get done before your big party. But, I am laying here wondering how I survived a whole year without you.

Your great grandpa joined you in heaven today. Look for him...he was a wonderful man.

I love you.

Mommy will never be the same because of you.

Monday, January 3, 2011

i must be dreaming


How can I be the girl that was "never going to have a baby of her own"?

How can that girl become the woman who is now grieving her dead child?

How can I be pregnant with my second son??

So much of this last year can't be real. But it is.

One year ago tonight we were all hopeful that Trent was going to stay put for the long run. The doctor told me he was moving me from ICU to the "waiting" floor. The floor I would live on for the next few months waiting on my son to be born. I fell asleep with the idea that maybe I would take him home. But, that was not our story. I went into labor Jan 4th 2010. I gave birth to him and said good bye on the 5th. Can it really be true? Can we really be approaching a year?

I am grateful that I had him. I am amazed that his short life has changed everything about me. I didn't know I could love the way I love.

I was on bed rest after my cerclage was placed. I started watching Dexter. In the last season there is a serial killer that they call "trinity." He kills in groups of threes and leaves behind DNA from his dead sister. Two nights ago I was laying awake (I have shingles. I am not sleeping well because of it. They are itchy painful sores covering my back and side!!) I was laying awake thinking about the crazy things grief drives people to do. Here this man kills people the way his sister, mom, and dad died. And then he leaves a smudge of his sisters ashes behind. All of that is to say I had this epiphany moment. I was never supposed to have someone that shared my DNA. Not someone that I created anyway. But, I have ashes of a sweet baby boy that has my DNA and Ken's. It was an amazing feeling. We created life. It was a short life...but, so beautiful. There is nothing that will ever take that fact away. And, now I get another chance. I have another little boy growing inside of me...sharing my DNA. As painful as this year has been I am so very grateful that I have two boys. TWO BOYS. Can you believe it? Yes, one of them is gone forever. But, he changed me forever. His little life will forever be with me. And, hopefully Ian will get the chance to grow up in our home. I am one lucky momma. Most would not see me that way...but, two boys. Two beautiful boys. One in heaven, one nice and warm in my womb...growing and getting ready for the day he can come home.

I must be get the chance to be the mom to two little boys. I will mother them in totally different ways. Trent will forever be my angel. And, Ian is my new little miracle.

It is a good dream...with some painful, awful moments.

Sunday, January 2, 2011

my top 10

As I approach the one year mark of the death of my son I am very reflective. The past year has broken me. I have experienced emotions I didn't even know I was capable of. I have thought of death more than I think a person should. I have dreamed of everything I have missed. I have heard kind words of strangers, grown close to people who know my pain, learned of the love that people can show during grief...and of course heard some of the stupidest, mean, cruel things come out of people's mouths. So, today I am giving you my top 10 list.

The 10 worst things to say to a grieving parent:

10. You just had a miscarriage right?

First, you idiot a miscarriage is a loss of life too. But, NO I gave birth to a perfectly healthy baby boy. He was too tiny to make it in this world. He lived for 22 short minutes. Nothing about his birth was "just"

9. At least you didn't get to know him.

Thank you for that. It will help me sleep at night. You are so very right...the fact that I never got to know what the sound of my first born sons voice sounds like, or the way he sounds when he cries, or the look in his eyes when his daddy gets home from work...all of that makes his death SO MUCH EASIER...ass

8. You can have other kids.

How is that supposed to help? I mean really?? Who cares if I can have others. I want TRENT. I want the life that was stolen from me. I will never ever give birth to another Trenton James...he is dead. Forever.

7. You can always adopt.

Again, same as above. What in the world does adopting have anything to do with my son's death.

6. God needed another angel.

That is crap. I don't think God gave him life just so He could be greedy and have another angel. And, really what part of that is comforting??? I mean the fact that the God I believe in is so greedy and self centered that He took my son or the fact that my son is in heaven. I just don't believe it.

5. Trent just didn't feel "right." This baby feels "right"

Are you kidding me??? When I was throwing up from morning felt right. When I felt him kick felt right. When I saw his perfectly formed body on the ultrasound felt right. When I gave birth to a beautiful baby was right. This baby feels exactly the same as Trent. What do you know about the way my pregnacy feels like/??

4. You are not over "that" yet?

"That" is the death of my son. And, no I will never ever be over it.

3. I miss the old you. The happy one.

I am so sorry my new life doesn't fit in to your life. I am sorry that I can't make you smile the way I used to. I am sorry that the posts on facebook are too much for you...and for the record this person deleted me from their friends list shortly after sending me this email.

2. You could name this baby Trent.

Trent is DEAD. naming another child the same name doesn't bring him back.

1. He only lived 22 minutes? That doesn't even count.

It was the most amazing 22 minutes of my life. And, it was his WHOLE life. So, yes it counts. It counts more than your 50+ pathetic years will ever count. My son lived and died. Everything about it counts.

What should you say??

I am sorry. Always appropriate. Always true.

I don't know what to say. Most days I don't either. But, at least I know you care.

Say his name. Bring him up. Tell me you miss him.
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